At Twenty Weeks, He Faked My Miscarriage

. The New York Post's Page Six even had a running tally o

ily's mega-yacht into the murky Hudson, or dramatically announc

was being publicly shamed aga

d stood on the balcony of our Central Park West penthouse, threatening to jump. I had to cancel my

less. He deliberately smashed a priceless Ming vase, grabbed a shard, and threatened to cut himself. I intervened, trying

declared he was renouncing his fortune, heading

o it

he'd found his "passion muse," Kendra Be

eks pregnant. He spun a tale to his private doctor: "Amelia is too career-focus

malpractice" settlement at me,

carry a Sterling

eart, already fra

te. In their opulent, cold drawing-room, I laid

I'm giving Jared what he w

ter how outrageously Jared had behaved before, I'

l tack. "Jared's just... spirited, Amelia. You w

Mrs. Sterling. Ten years can erode anything. He doesn't need

ator: Jared and Kendra, beaming, as he slipped a monstrous diamond onto her finger at Tiffany's. Foll

endra were toasting their 'undying love,' I lost my child. He even had h

down her face. Mr. Sterling, a man known for his iron will and stoic de

g that ring in a private chat group with his billionaire buddies. Captioned it 'The

e, truly looked at me, perhaps for the first time seeing th

h. If he doesn't come to his se

e grand double doors of th

arm like expensive ivy. He saw me, and a sn

to Mommy and Daddy to cry again? Is that

s lingering on me with a predatory glint, as

clutching her chest. "

allet he kept by the fireplace. For a moment, I thought he'd strike his o

. "Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, you can't blame Jared! He's just being brave

receipt on the table. His sneer deepened into a

the line. Honestly, Amelia, every time I look at your miserable face, I